


The Weight You Carry

by Silveriss



Series: It's Keith - Trails of Memories [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Adulthood, Angst, Apologies, Burn Out, Conflict, Established Relationship, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, It's Keith Universe, Letter, One-Shot, Timeline: Lize is 24, Timeline: Madalena is 24, communication is important, loving relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 19:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15125885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silveriss/pseuds/Silveriss
Summary: Everyone has limits.Lize simply wishes Madalena would acknowledge hers.





	The Weight You Carry

**Author's Note:**

> TW for a brief mention of a visit to the hospital.

You exhaust me, Madalena. It's not the first time you push it too far, it's not even the further you've gone, but I can only bear so much. You've stretched me too thin. I apologize about some of the things I said, and the way I said them. The way I made them sound like you were a burden for me to bear.

It's not true. Please believe me when I say it's not true.

You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.

 

You better believe that.

 

You don't exhaust me because you're heavy. You exhaust me because you never let me carry your weight; you're always running ahead.

But, Madalena, you have to know: I can only follow you so far. There are limits to my capacities that we would both be foolish to ignore, and we can't afford that I be the only lucid one. I know you know that. But you're the only one you have to prove yourself to, which makes your goals both easier and harder to fulfill - at least it  _ would _ make it easier if you acknowledged your limits instead of purposefully pushing past them, as if they were nothing but a flaw to will away.

Here's something that people like me learn to live by: your limits are not your weaknesses.

You said that I've got it easy, that I couldn't possibly understand. That you have a goal and that means making sacrifices. That you can't afford to step back in front of every hardship that comes your way -  _ unlike me _ , your tone hinted. That you have to work harder, harder, always harder. That you have to study more. That you have to focus more. That you have to be more efficient. More, more, more, because it's never good enough, because  _ you're _ never good enough, somehow, in spite of the liters of coffee, the post-its covering more surface in our apartment than the wallpaper, all the nights spent folded over your books, your notes, your laptop.

You're so focused on all the work you could squeeze into your already sleepless schedule that you forget to be proud of the results - in fact, you barely acknowledge they exist. All you are aware of is how much harder you could,  _ should _ work. You don't see the piles of empty cups, untouched pastries, canceled dates.

 

Sometimes I get the urge to smash your little playmobil into pieces, this cursed surgeon from your childhood who steals your youth. I apologize about this, too - I know how important a dream it is to you.

But it is exhausting, how little you know about yourself. How blind you are to your own halo, when you're at peace. It is exhausting how poor your knowledge about the basics of self-care is. I see you grit your teeth, I watch you burn, and there's nothing I can do to make you take care of you.

I'm a black lesbian in a wheelchair, Madalena. I need to check in at the hospital every month. There are things I can do, but I can't take care of the both of us for two.  
You'd say I underestimate myself, but I'd say you do the same. If you took just one second to look at yourself, _really look_ , you would see a woman who climbs the Everest everyday just to put her brilliance into the sun and light it on. 1,8 meters may be tall even in a wheelchair but you, Madalena, _you_ are a giant.

And I love you for it.

That is why I can't bring you your work to the hospital because you've had a burnout again. I can't watch as you clumsily build yourself back up from ashes again. Leave that to the phoenixes in fairytales and take a good night sleep; you deserve it.

And then maybe you can stop by the Monkey for a drink and an impro show. If you apologize, you might even get a kiss.

 

I care about you, sunshine. Some might even say that I'm in love with you. So please, I'm begging you, go to bed and take a rest - or two.

I am so sorry I snapped.

I love you.

 

x

Lize

 

PS: Your tuba misses you.


End file.
